here she is! 

O great ones,

the first of our ancestors to weep!

the strikingly plain girl with blunt hair and wavering convictions.

her fathers daughter, 

firstborn, born quietly into the night,

born at midnight.

what a disappointment, our hardened labourers hands and courage,

wasted on a girl, a girl who weeps.

who's heart has been weakened by love.

a spoiling of our legacies.

the end of our lineage, the last of her name.